A Night to Remember
by Tmrpotterhead250
Summary: Add together Halloween Night, a scary story tradition, newsies from Queens, our favorite Manhattan Newsies, and a ghost in the attic — what could go wrong? Written for the Newsie Pape Selling Competition


**A Night to Remember**

 **A/N this was written for Circulation Four of the Newsie Selling Pape Competition**

 **Tasks 3: Write about the feeling of terror, and then the feeling of relief as the moment of terror passes.**

 **So this sorta fits the criteria for all the prompts but due to creative liberties, I have decided that using Task 3 would be better. Task 3 offers a more abstract task which fits my story better than either Task 1 or 2**

 **Prompts used: lamp, mountain, and dialogue("This is about to go downhill real fast from here...")**

 **Words: 2,496 (not including the A/N)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the OCs**

* * *

Lightning flashed in the sky as rain poured down. It was a gloomy and ominous Halloween night.

Queenie, a girl around 17 with coppery blonde hair and green-blue eyes, sat in a circle with her fellow Queens Newsies. She smiled at her group as they sat in front of a flickering lamp. They couldn't risk lighting an actual fire since their building had wooden floors. All the old furniture had been moved further back in the large room.

Queenie nudged the boy beside her. Ben, or Big Ben for his British accent (it was a joke. Don't ask him), had sandy blonde hair and twinkling green eyes. He rolled his eyes at her before clearing his throat and silencing the newsies. "Awright, settle down ya bums. Queenie here wants ta tell ya 'bout a tradition we do every Halloween."

The newsies around the lantern were all the new newsies. The ages ran from 16 to 8. Queenie drew the line at younger even if they had a few newsies who were younger than eight.

Queenie smiled affectionately at her second in command. "As Ben said this is a tradition. We do it every year. Every year all the new newsies gather 'round a lantern and tell scary stories. They can be real or made up, it don't mattah. But everyone has to tell a story and everyone has to respect the one speakin'. Clear?"

The newsies nodded to their leader before a boisterous 9-year-old started.

...

After a rather gruesome retelling of how the local butcher accidentally cut his right hand off several of the younger newsies were ready to call it a night. Queenie got up to send those younger than ten to bed when a sudden clap of thunder shook the building. The newsies jumped, huddling together as the sky lit up with lightning. Another loud bang, this time from the main doors startled the group.

Queenie got up with Ben as Frost, a tall lanky boy with white blonde hair and ice blue eyes, stayed to calm the younger newsies. He was Queenie's third and often left in charge when she and Ben had to talk to the other Newsie leaders.

Queenie pried open the wooden door, staring at the soaking wet figures of three boys.

Queenie and Ben stared at the figures until the closest one opened his mouth. "Ya gonna let us in or what?"

Queenie breathed a sigh of relief before pulling in the closest person. "Racetrack Higgins, how in the name o' Spot Conlon di ya find your way here? And you," she pointed at a taller boy with a soaked cowboy hat. "What are you doin' on my turf? It's pourin' rain for crying out loud." Queenie berated the wet Manhattan newsies.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Quit motherin' Queenie. We's just passin' through. I had business in Long Island when I's caught Race followin' some shady people near the border. He didn't know a youngah boy had followed 'im. We ran when da bulls showed up for a local robbery. Then it started pourin' and we made our way here."

"This is about to go downhill real fast from here..." Race muttered to Jack at Queenie's annoyed expression.

Jack nudged the younger boy when Queenie sent them a warning look. Queenie didn't always appreciate Race's sarcastic comments making for a rather rocky friendship.

Queenie muttered something under her breath as she ran around finding blankets to warm the Manhattan newsies. "Well, ya might as well stay for the night. It don't look like it's gonna clear. Yer boys know where ya are?"

Jack frowned. "Crutchie will know I prolly found someplace warm. Race stays out late and Romeo," Jack pointed to the smallest boy who'd come with him. "Has begun to follow Race 'round. I'm sure the othahs will figuah we's all met up. Ain't the best weather for a search party."

Ben chuckled quietly. "Well, you're stuck here. Might as join us. It's time for Queenie's story." He told them mysteriously.

The Manhattan newsies warily joined the Queens leaders in the circle as Frost explained the tradition.

...

"Once upon a time-" Queenie began only to be interrupted by Race.

"That's how ya start a scary story? Once upon a time?" He asked mockingly.

Queenie glared at the Italian. "Shut it, Higgins. I'm sure we can arrange for you to spend da night outside."

Race backed down. Queenie began again. "One snowy night long ago, three children were stuck in a blizzard. They banged on the door of a large house, not sure where they were, only dat they couldn't see the road."

Ben picked up the story. "Da door swung open, giving the children a break from the snow. As they looked around, the only girl of the group gasped. 'This is the abandoned mansion on the hill.' She said. 'It's supposed to be haunted.' She warned her friends."

Frost spoke. "Da othahs, two boys waved off her concerns. 'Don't be a baby.' They told her. She frowned, following them as they explored the house."

Queenie picked it up again. "There were cobwebs everywhere and many shadows to hang on the walls. You could feel da cold from the storm even in the house. The girl looked out da window, seein' only white due to the snow. When she looked back the boys were gone."

Ben grinned creepily at some of the younger newsies. "She called their names but no one answered. She wandered through the halls, glancin' through another window. But dis time, she saw somethin'."

Frost picked up where Ben left off. His deep voice making the mood even darker. "She screamed, seein' a face. The two othah boys came runnin'. They stopped at the window. The youngah boy picked up da one thin' on the ground. He picked up a silk glove. The oldah boy shook his head, trying to get the girl's voice outah his head. "I told you." Echoed throughout da hallway."

A bang of thunder that sounded like an avalanche on a mountain sounded, startling the newsies. Even the Manhattan ones jumped, though they'd deny it.

Queenie grinned wickedly. "The youngah boy became scared. He ran outtah da hallway. His friend screamed aftah him. Calling to him to stay. Yelling that perhaps they'd find their friend. The boy didn't listen."

"He ran to da front door. Opening it with a bang, starin' into the white world full of bitterly cold snow." Ben added with a smirk.

"As the oldah boy caught up dere was no sign of his friend. All dat was dere was anothah silk glove." Frost finished dramatically.

Queenie looked out the open window, still raining from the looks of it. "Legend has it that da oldah boy stayed in that house until he died. He went insane, runnin' 'round lookin' for his friends and being haunted by da girl's words. People say he kept da silk gloves, wearing 'em until the day he died."

Ben glanced at Queenie. "Legend says he comes 'round, looking for his friends."

"Haunting da streets around the mansion, looking for a person with silk gloves," Frost said just before the lantern blew out.

Queenie's voice could be heard as thunder boomed throughout the sky. "He wanders 'round da streets of New York, looking for the person with silk gloves for revenge so that he may finally have peace." Queenie somehow made her voice echo. Her face glowed in the dark as lightning flashed across the sky.

...

The lantern suddenly became lit. Something fell from the sky.

A silk glove.

...

Screams spread throughout the group. The younger newsies scrambled away from the glove while the older ones tried to calm them down.

Poor Romeo wouldn't let go of Race for a full thirty minutes after Queenie called for order.

And Bean, a young teen who'd found the newsies a year ago, wouldn't move too far from Ben. She watched everything with wide eyes as Queenie restored order.

Queenie unsuccessfully tried to hide her smile. "Awright! Calm it! It's not real!"

Silence reigned as all the newsies stared at the Queen of Queens.

Queenie cleared her throat to elaborate. "We do it every year. Ask anyone. I'm sure Ben would be glad to share the story of how we were scared. Frost was scared the year aftah us. We do it every year."

Ben spoke up, trying to put a bit of humor on the prank. "We have hot drinks in da kitchen to end da night. Nothin' feels bettah then warm cider after a scary story. Really makes ya feel good." Queenie had procured some cider just for the night. It was a trade secret passed down from every Queens leader to the next one.

Frost got the younger newsies into the kitchen so the Manhattan newsies could confront Queenie about her tradition.

...

Jack was the first to speak. "What da heck Queens? Do ya like scarin' littl' kids?"

Queenie shook her head. "No, I don't Jack. It's a tradition for the leadahs to scare the newbies with our glove story. And tomorrow it will be nothin' more'n' a cool story to spread amongst my newsies."

She waved a hand at his scowl. "Don't give me dat look Kelly. You too Higgins. I've been doin' this for six years. I've watched Jacks do it for two as his second and it happened to me once. By tomorrow my Newsies will be eager to spread rumors 'bout how they had to kill someone or gut a fish. Believe me, ya wouldn't believe da wild tales I've hoid. Thing is, it don't affect them like ya would think. Everyone needs a good scare once a year."

Jack opened his mouth to argue some more when a sudden noise caught his attention. Race heard it too. It sounded like glass; similar to the noise a lamp made when some of the younger newsies knocked the one down just near their Lodging house.

Race glared at Queenie as she and Ben looked toward the ceiling. "If this is anothah joke then I'm outah here fastah then a racehorse." He threatened.

Queenie sighed, collapsing into a worn chair nearby. "No. This ain't part of our trick."

Ben answered when it seemed like Queenie wouldn't. "There's somethin' livin' in our attic. Never seen but always hoid. It scares da youngah ones but we can't find nothin'." Ben looked at the ceiling sullenly as they heard something crash.

Race snorted, trying to hide his nervousness. "Well, I guess we bettah leave it be then..."

Jack didn't agree with his younger friend. "No Race. I think we can look at it. Least we can do Queens. Ya did let us stay. Plus, maybe it's an animal dat recognizes yer scents."

Queenie shrugged. "Do what ya want. Just have a cup ol' cider foist. Gives ya courage."

...

"I can't believe you volunteered to do dis!" Race betrayed his friend and leader.

Jack shrugged, shaking off any nerves as the pair climbed some rickety steps. "I can't just let them kids be scared. Ain't right." Jack told the younger boy.

"Still, Queenie was fine with leavin' whatevah it is be." Race muttered.

Jack rolled his eyes though Race couldn't see it. "You know how Queenie is. She'd eventually have gotten someone to check it out. She cares for her newsies as much as I do."

Race couldn't argue that.

Queenie joined the Queens newsies when she was eight. No one really knew about her past; perhaps the only one who really knew was Spot Conlon but even then no one knew why Spot of all people would know. Queenie spoke a little better than most so they knew she had some semblance of an education but beyond that Queenie didn't reveal much else. Queenie became the Queen of Queens when she was 13. A bit early but the former leader Jacks has seen her potential and molded her into a leader. He left them one night five years ago, causing Queenie to step up and take on the position of leader. She cared fiercely about those in her care; boy or girl. Queens didn't care about gender when it came to their newsies.

"I just don't like it."

Jack didn't say anything. He knew Race wasn't talking about helping Queenie. Jack couldn't say he liked doing this either. Going into a creepy attic with a thunder storm outside wasn't how he'd imagined spending his night. Who knew what was in here. That glove story has unnerved him a bit. He just hid it well.

...

The pair crept silently around the attic. They used a small lantern to look around.

Jack was stunned by the mountain of boxes up there. Queenie had told him the place used to be a storage warehouse. He'd not understood the exact meaning until now.

Jack noticed a large lamp that had fallen over. Broken glass was scattered on the floor since the lamp had fallen over. Probably one of the noises they'd heard earlier that evening.

A shadow passed over them as they turned to leave. Both boys spun around.

"You saw that?" Jack asked, hoping it was a trick of the light.

Race gulped. "Yeah.." he whispered weakly.

Jack glanced around the room. His eyes settling on the rocking of a cardboard box. Suddenly it fell, making a loud crashing noise.

Jack could hear light footsteps of someone coming up to the attic. Queenie peaked her head up past the floor. "You boys awright?"

Race nodded shakily. "Yeah. Just...just a trick ol' da light." He trailed off.

Jack glanced at the falling box again. It moved. "Uh, Queens. I think we found your problem."

Queenie glanced at the spot where Jack was looking. She gulped. "Okay..." She walked slowly toward the box. "Anyone wanna do it?" She didn't take Jack up on his offer.

Queenie took a deep breath. "Okay. There's no such things as ghosts. Deep breaths." She muttered to herself.

The younger newsies would whisper about a ghost in the attic. Queenie didn't believe in ghosts. But this was more real than anything else.

Queenie slowly and carefully lifted the box...

.

.

.

.

Two yellow orbs glared back at Queenie.

She stifled a gasp.

Jack and Rave strained to see what Queenie had found.

"What'd ya find Queens?" Race inquired. His curiosity getting the better of him.

Queenie turned around, a small black cat curled up in her arms. "It seems Race, that we have a cat problem. Prolly got stuck or came through a window. I know there's one in here somewhere. Due to 'er color, nobody could see her. Guess she likes jumpin' - knockin' over boxes as she went."

Jack let out a breath of relief. He felt the tension leave his body. "Well, dat solves ya mystery."

Queenie grinned as Race came over to pet the new addition. "Yeah. I guess it does."

She smiled at the cat. This would be a story to remember.

* * *

 **I feel like this story was too long. It has too many details.**

 **Anyway, I liked the prompt. I wouldn't say it was easier than the others but definitely gave you a more specific area to work with.**

 **Thanks for reading.**

 **Perhaps if I ever finish it you'll see Queenie, Ben, Frost, and all the other Queens newsies again**

 **Don't count on it being anytime real soon though.**

 **Ciao,**

 **Tmr_Potterhead250**


End file.
